“That which will change the policy of a nation, though not so soon as if the National Council could for once come here to legislate. Friends!” he said to some near him, whose sudden silence called the attention of others beyond them,—“I am telling this gentleman that I believe there is one thought in the minds of us all, though that thought might be spoken in many ways. One might say, that he felt himself injured by the high price of bread last year, and another by the falling off of work—one might point to the grave of his spirit-broken brother, and another hold up before us his pining child—one might be angry with our masters for altering our wages, so that we never know what to depend upon, and another may be grieved that Anderson should have sharpened his speech, and that Mr. Fergusson should come among us with so grave a countenance as this; but there is one plain thought at the bottom of all this,—that the prime necessary of life is the last thing that should be taxed. I should not wonder if Mr. Fergusson himself agrees with us there.” “It depends upon what the object of the tax is,” replied Mr. Fergusson. “If the corn-tax be laid on to swell the revenue of the state, I grant that it is the very worst that could be imposed; because, while it presses so heavily on all as to cramp immeasurably the resources of the nation, it presses most on those who have little but the prime necessary of life, and the harder in proportion as they possess little else.” “In what case will you then justify a corn-tax?” “When it is laid on to balance an excess of taxes laid on the agriculturists over those laid on other classes.” A confusion of voices here arose, in cries of— “We will take them on ourselves!” “You and yours shall live duty-free, if you give us corn free.” “We pay your taxes many times over already.” “I will work one day in the week for you for nothing but a free corn trade.” “I will give you a share of my wages every Saturday night, and my vote, if you’ll go up to Parliament, and speak our minds there.” And many a black hand was held out to see if Mr. Fergusson would say “Done.” He did not quite say this, but he went on,— “I am sure I can have no objection to a change in our system; for I have suffered as well as you.” “Ay, and you would make it up by having corn dearer than ever,” cried one of the discontented.